England Wrote the Rules. The World Wrote the Story.
Photo: Al Jazeera
Ken stayed in bed.
I didn't.
Seven minutes into England's Round of 32 match against DR Congo, my television told me everything I needed to know.
DR Congo 1.
England 0.
"It ain't coming home," I announced to an empty lounge room.
It's become a bit of a tradition in our house.
Whenever England wobble at a major tournament, I can't help myself.
"It ain't coming home."
Harry Kane had other ideas.
England recovered to win 2-1 and, for another few days at least, the dream lives on.
But as I watched the match unfold, I realised I had been asking the wrong question.
Perhaps the question isn't whether football is coming home.
Perhaps it is whether it ever really belonged to just one home in the first place.
England's Burden
No football nation carries expectation quite like England.
Every World Cup arrives with memories of 1966.
Every tournament is viewed through the lens of history.
Every victory fuels belief.
Every setback invites national soul-searching.
The tabloids sharpen their headlines.
The broadsheets sharpen their analysis.
Managers are dissected.
Players are scrutinised.
By breakfast, England's performance has become a national conversation.
England doesn't just carry expectation.
It carries ownership.
Every World Cup feels like another opportunity to reclaim something it believes began with it.
That is the burden of being the nation that codified the modern game.
England doesn't just play the opposition.
It plays history.
It plays expectation.
It plays a song that has become famous around the football world.
The Wrong Story
England survived.
Harry Kane delivered.
Thomas Tuchel lives to fight another day.
That will dominate the headlines.
Every country watches the World Cup.
England watches England.
But I am not convinced England's victory is the most interesting football story.
The more interesting story is this:
DR Congo scored after seven minutes and pushed one of the world's traditional football powers all the way.
Twenty or thirty years ago, many people would have described that as one of the great World Cup shocks.
Today?
I am not sure it even qualifies as a surprise.
The Numbers Tell Their Own Story
If England's comeback felt like a narrow escape, perhaps that tells us more about modern football than it does about England.
Consider a few numbers.
DR Congo had not appeared at a World Cup for 52 years.
Before this tournament, their only previous appearance was in 1974 as Zaire, when they lost all three matches without scoring a goal.
This year they returned, drew with Portugal, defeated Uzbekistan to reach the knockout stages for the first time, and then took the lead against England after just seven minutes.
Fifty-two years ago, DR Congo came to the World Cup hoping to belong.
This year, they came expecting to compete.
There is a world of difference between those two ambitions.
African football isn't rising anymore.
It has arrived.
This is no longer a collection of isolated upsets.
It reflects decades of investment in coaching, academies, player development and belief.
Japan's story is just as compelling.
Once considered outsiders, they are now expected to compete.
Their players are scattered across Europe's biggest leagues, and victories over traditional powers are no longer treated as miracles but as genuine possibilities.
The gap has not disappeared.
But it has narrowed.
And every World Cup seems to narrow it a little more.
While England Looked Back, The World Looked Forward
England gave us the modern laws of football.
That contribution can never be overstated.
When football spread around the world, it didn't simply copy England.
It evolved.
Every nation added something of its own.
England codified the game.
Scotland taught it to pass.
Uruguay gave it a World Cup.
Italy made defending an art.
Brazil made it beautiful.
The Netherlands reinvented movement.
Germany made excellence routine.
Spain made possession irresistible.
Argentina made football poetry.
France demonstrated the strength of a modern multicultural football nation.
Japan showed what patience, planning and technical excellence could achieve.
Asian football continues to close the gap.
Morocco inspired a continent.
African football is writing the next chapter.
Football Belongs Everywhere
None of this diminishes England's contribution.
The modern game still owes an enormous debt to England.
The Premier League remains one of the world's great competitions.
English clubs attract the best players, coaches and supporters from every continent, and English football continues to shape how the game is played and consumed around the world.
England never stopped contributing.
It simply stopped being the only nation shaping football's future.
The English media will rightly celebrate Harry Kane.
They'll analyse England's performance.
They'll debate whether this was a warning or a turning point.
But perhaps they'll spend less time asking how DR Congo became good enough to make England work so desperately for victory.
That, to me, is one of the defining stories of modern football.
England exported football.
The world imported it.
Then it started making improvements.
England gave the world football.
The world said, "Thank you."
Football isn't trying to come home.
It found millions of homes a long time ago.
In Rio.
In Buenos Aires.
In Tokyo.
In Casablanca.
In Kinshasa.
In Sydney.
In Hobart.
And yes...
In England too.